Picking Nits
by tj thw8s
Summary: Sorry, too much caffeine and a mad muse persuaded me to vent a favoured pet peeve in fic form. Somebody stake me.


Resent-Date: Mon, 9 Aug 1999 00:12:26 -0700 X-Sender: tthwaite@pop.banff.net (Unverified) Mime-Version: 1.0 Date: Mon, 9 Aug 1999 01:18:28 -0600 To: buffy-beta@eskimo.com From: tthwaite@banff.net (tj thwaites) Resent-From: buffy-beta@eskimo.com X-Mailing-List: buffy-beta@eskimo.com archive/latest/11626 X-Loop: buffy- beta@eskimo.com Precedence: list Resent-Sender: buffy-beta-request@eskimo.com Subject: BBETA: Picking Nits (1/1) archivesque fic  
  
Title: Picking Nits (1/1) Author: tj thwaites E-mail: tthwaite@banff.net Archive: if you really want it, go ahead Rating: G Spoilers: up to the end of season three, I guess, but nothing really specific. Summary: Wesley's found something else to whine about--fics. Disclaimer: They belong to Joss, I'm just borrowing them to vent a little. I've had WAY too much caffeine today. Author's Note: I hope my funny bone is working on this, and no one takes this the wrong way.  
  
Picking Nits by tj the dyslexic ferret  
  
Rupert Giles continued placing his precious personal collection onto the shelves of his new office and tried not to glare too often at the figure seated at his desk.  
  
[Damned Watcher's Council!] Giles grumbled silently.  
  
Wesley Wyndam-Pryce sat at the computer the university considered standard office equipment, busily perusing something on the screen. Giles couldn't stop the glare he shot over his shoulder when Wesley mumbled to himself.  
  
Giles shook his head and went back to his task. Amazing what a little discreet blackmail could accomplish. Giles didn't like being indebted to Willy, but the sleazy bartender did seem to know just about every dirty secret in Sunnydale. Giles was now officially a research professor in residence at UC Sunnydale with his own office, tucked away in a basement corner of the Literature Building. He'd been granted the position on the understanding that he would make himself available as a substitute teacher to the English and Mythology departments as needed. And provided he forgot those dirty secrets the Dean and University President didn't want exposed.  
  
Giles considered the distasteful quid pro quo an unfortunate necessity to maintain his close contact with his Slayer, but Ripper found it hilarious. But both of Giles' halves were in agreement when it came to the subject of the office's other current occupant.  
  
Giles glanced over his shoulder at Wesley again, very much annoyed that the man was still around. But even though Buffy was no longer even acknowledging anything the Council still attempted to send her, Wesley hadn't been recalled. The Council had insisted he stay and monitor Faith's condition since they had decided to let someone else provide her medical care and only intervene when and if she showed signs of regaining consciousness. And now it appeared as if he would continue to hang about, and possibly continue to report back to the Council on Buffy's activities.  
  
Giles finally turned around and faced Wesley, brought out of his thoughts by Wesley's odd behaviour. Every now and then, he'd wince slightly. His curiosity aroused, despite his antipathy, Giles crossed his office. Pretending to retrieve another box of books from the corner behind his desk, Giles looked over Wesley's shoulder at the computer screen, trying to discover the cause.  
  
Giles' mouth dropped open. Wesley was reading fanfic? Wesley suddenly clicked on the reply function of his email and began typing frantically. Giles unashamedly read the message Wesley was writing. Well, diatribe actually.  
  
Giles hand shot out and stopped Wesley from sending the message he'd just composed. Wesley looked up in shock, obviously having totally forgotten where he was.  
  
"Send that message," Giles said quietly, "And you may end up permanently ejected from the list. The fanfic community tends to take a very dim view of flames."  
  
"What?" Wesley retorted, "I'm just sending this...this person feedback. As they requested."  
  
"Feedback is supposed to be *constructive*," Giles explained patiently, having had a similar conversation with Cordelia once before, "And writing an author to say they have a 'deplorably inept grasp of the basics of grammer' is not constructive. Language like that would be considered a flame. And if you remember the rules, flames can get you removed from the list. Permanently."  
  
Giles didn't mention that being unsubbed from the list might be the least of Wesley's problems. He recognized the email address Wesley had been about to reply to. It was one Willow had set up for Buffy so the Slayer could send in her own anecdotes anonymously. Buffy would be liable to come after Wesley, stake in hand, if she got that message as written. Much as the Ripper would enjoy such a spectacle, Giles couldn't let that happen. For Buffy's sake.  
  
"But...but...," Wesley sputtered, "It *is* deplorable! How can anyone with the rudiments of knowledge confuse the comparative conjunction with the temporal referent? Or a possessive pronoun with a verb contraction? Really..."  
  
"Wesley!" Giles interrupted, "The most likely explanation is simple spelling errors caused by the author's mind running ahead of their fingers. And these types of mistakes won't be caught by the spellchecker because the wrong word is still an actual word."  
  
Wesley continued to grumble under his breath, but Giles leaned over and deleted the condescending letter. He gently pushed the younger man aside and drafted a much more diplomatic note, pointing out that he'd noticed a few spelling errors the author may not have caught during editting.  
  
"It can be little irritating," Giles offered as he typed, "Hitting literary potholes like the word 'then' instead of 'than', 'you're' instead of 'your', or 'it's' instead of 'its'. But you're supposed to be offering *helpful* advice, not bombastic complaints."  
  
Giles finished off a much more agreeable reply and send it off before Wesley could complain. Giles turned away without another word and resumed shelving his precious books. Wesley, after a glare at the older man's back, returned to the computer. There were still several more fic in his inbox.  
  
THE END  
  
Well, there it is. My caffeine induced venting of a favourite pet peeve. I just wanted to get it off my chest, even if I've done the same thing myself (and I know I have made these mistakes on occasion-I annoy myself when I spot them in a fic I thought I'd already finished overhauling).  
  
It's just that when I'm really into a fic, hitting the page down key as fast as I can read, that running across one of these errors is like hitting a pothole. A minor pause while my brain recognizes the context and goes: "Right, it should be ...."  
  
Keep writing all, mid-summer Buffy withdrawal is starting to hit me and fics are the only way to get my fix.  
  
  
  
  
  
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Noel:"Disappointment doesn't kill." Abby:"Right. Rejection kills. Disappointment only maims." -- "The Truth About Cats and Dogs"  
  
Any political system has its built-in faults. After all, it's designed to govern humans, and humanity can be counted upon to screw anything up periodically.  
  
@-}-}-- tj thwaites @-}-}-- @-}-}-- tthwaite@banff.net @-}-}-- @-}-}-- Box 2890, Banff, AB, T0L 0C0 @-}-}--  
  
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